


After the Fall

by laireshi



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: Lucifer catches Amenadiel before he falls; the wings he's never wanted the only thing letting him save his brother.





	After the Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Comicsohwhyohwhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicsohwhyohwhy/gifts).



> Thanks for ruining my life, and feel better soon! 
> 
> I have many feels about:  
> a) Lucifer and how much he hates his wings,  
> b) Lucifer and Amenadiel.  
> The logical conclusion was to channel them into a fic!

Amenadiel is falling.

Cold air cutting into his body, the wind roaring around him, the relentless force of gravity: none of these used to be scary. Soaring the skies was familiar, once upon a time, when he could fly as high as the sun and reach the Heaven itself.

But that no longer holds true, and as the ground gets closer, a dry chuckle escapes him. Would it be better, falling, Hell awaiting him, if Lucifer were still there?

(That’s a moot point: Amenadiel would still be in Heaven, if Lucifer had never left Hell, but he can no longer blame him for doing so.)

He closes his eyes and awaits the pain, but it never comes. 

A pair of strong arms wrap around him. There’s bright light he can feel through his shut eyelids, and Amenadiel doesn’t need to look to know. Between one heartbeat and the next, Lucifer sets him safely on the ground—no, not ground, Amenadiel sees as he finally opens his eyes again. They’re on a rooftop, and Amenadiel recognises it as the same as the one he took Lucifer to, saving him from a bullet all those months ago.

Lucifer hides his wings almost immediately, and even winded as he is, Amenadiel can’t help but mourn the loss. Lucifer’s divine white wings are the most beautiful thing Amenadiel’s ever seen. He doesn’t say it, though. He may not understand it, but he knows Lucifer _hates_ the wings.

“Nothing quite like stretching your wings in the morning,” he says, tense. “I really should incorporate that in my yoga routine, don’t you think?”

He looks more unsettled than Amenadiel feels, and Amenadiel _knows_ he can’t let him get away with quips. Not now. “Talk to me, brother,” he asks.

“I’m sorry, did I turn mute?” Lucifer snaps. “Seems to me I am talking—”

“ _Lucifer_.”

Lucifer nods minutely. “You had to go and make me use them, didn’t you?” he asks without looking at Amenadiel, his voice catching on the last syllable.

“It wasn’t a scheme of mine, Luci,” Amenadiel tells him.

“How about our father’s, then?” Lucifer asks, throwing a glance upwards. “Sounds just like his thing! You’re the one who keeps saying he put you here, next to me, for a reason! Was that it? Giving me my wings back wasn’t enough, right, he had to force me to use them, too!”

Amenadiel shakes his head. “He didn’t force you.”

Lucifer freezes for a second. “So what you’re saying,” he starts, deceptively quiet, “is I could’ve let you fall? You call that giving me a choice?”

 _Father has a plan_ , Amenadiel thinks, but that’s exactly Lucifer’s problem. 

“I thought you wanted me to fall,” Amenadiel says. They had this argument before and he’s hoping something familiar will calm Lucifer down.

“Not to your death, you bloody idiot!” Lucifer yells. “And I never wanted _anyone_ to fall, that’s all on dad! _Follow my rules or else_ , the bloody dictator!”

He’s pacing on the rooftop, his hair messed up from the short flight and his eyes feverish.

“I killed Uriel,” he says suddenly. “I’m not losing another brother. But the wings—”

Cutting off his wings is an unimaginable act, and Amenadiel knows Lucifer has done it three times by now. It makes him angry and worried in equal measures, but right now he’s mostly scared of what Lucifer might do. He’s never seen Lucifer quite like this: out of it and spiralling downwards. It started when he got the wings back, and it’s worse now.

Amenadiel suddenly understands why Lucifer just took on all the punches and the pain that came with them, back when he burnt his first wings. Amenadiel certainly won’t hit him now, though, and he doesn’t think trying to touch Lucifer now is a good idea. 

He doesn’t know how to help him. Words were never _his_ strong suit.

Lucifer reaches into his suit to pull out a flask of undoubtedly expensive alcohol. Amenadiel doesn’t say anything, watching him drink—Chloe isn’t here, so alcohol won’t do a thing to Lucifer right now. Amenadiel’s still not quite used to the fact that sometimes, Lucifer is mortal. To worrying that he might get physically hurt.

That’s not an issue now; the current worry is all too familiar: watching Lucifer come apart without understanding _how_ , without any idea of how to fix it. 

It’s Amenadiel who almost died, but that’s not important. A divine test or not, he has to _be there_ for Lucifer, simple as that. Be a support, not a burden. Amenadiel thinks, with some surprise, that he doesn’t care if this is father’s plan for him. He has to be there for Lucifer, because _Lucifer is his brother_. 

“Luci,” Amenadiel speaks slowly. “You used the wings. It doesn’t have to mean more than that. You saved me, and that’s it.”

“Is it?” Lucifer’s voice catches, and then he barrels on. “Is it, because the way I see it, I could only save your life because of these bloody wings!” He undoes his shirt’s top button, as if he can’t quite breathe. “You know I _hate_ them. I cut them off myself. But dear old dad knows better, now, doesn’t he? He wants me to have the wings, and here’s why: so I don’t have your blood on my hands!”

Amenadiel approaches him slowly. “Lucifer, listen to me. I’m not your responsibility.” And normally, Lucifer would be the first to say as much, but everything’s changed since he came to Earth, and more exactly, since Uriel followed.

He remembers Lucifer telling him about Uriel, and his own grief makes the memories blur, but he never wants to see his brother look like that again, his clothes covered in blood, tears still visible on his cheeks. The worst was his voice, though, completely hollow.

“I’m not a bloody angel anymore,” Lucifer says, wild-eyed as if he didn’t hear Amenadiel. “I don’t _want_ his forgiveness, I don’t want the wings, and now I have to be _grateful—_ ”

“You had a tool at your disposal,” Amenadiel says, even if it pains him. “You used that tool. That’s all.”

“You’re a terrible liar, brother,” Lucifer says, finally focusing on Amenadiel. “I know how much the wings mean to you.”

“That’s it, Luci!” Amenadiel touches Lucifer’s shoulder, relieved when Lucifer doesn’t step away or push him away. “To _me_. And we’re very different.”

“A fallen angel and the devil?” Lucifer asks. “Doesn’t sound that far off.” 

It still stings, a bit, to hear the words _fallen angel_ , but what else is Amenadiel now? _Father has a plan_ , he reminds himself, _and he will trust him_. But Lucifer can’t take comfort from this, not like Amenadiel does.

“Look, brother,” Amenadiel says. “I—I know you don’t want them. But if that decision is out of your hands, so is using them for _good_ that bad?”

“All I’ve ever wanted,” Lucifer says, “was free will.”

He rolls his shoulder, as if even hidden, his wings somehow hurt him. Maybe they do. Amenadiel couldn’t tell. 

Lucifer looks him in the eyes. “And I know I’m playing right into his game, but I can’t even regret it. Bloody hell, it’s your life we’re talking about. But I wish I could—and doesn’t that make me a monster, brother?”

“You’re not a monster, Luci,” Amenadiel says. “You’ve never been one.” He takes a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me.”

“How can I ever sever them again?” Lucifer asks quietly. “After that?”

“I’ll try to avoid high buildings,” Amenadiel promises, and Lucifer looks at him, a bit confused, before raising a corner of his mouth in a weak smile. 

“Terrible joke,” he mutters, but then something seems to click in his mind. “Amenadiel. Exactly _who_ thought they could try and kill my brother and get away with it?”

“Let’s find out,” Amenadiel offers.He remembers a face, doesn’t know anything else about his attacker, but that might be for the best: it’ll get Lucifer focused on something else than his wings.

Lucifer nods grimly. “Punishment I’m _very_ good at,” he says.

The momentary distraction is good. They’ll find the culprits, and hopefully Lucifer will feel better.

And in the meantime, Amenadiel can watch him, make sure Lucifer doesn’t wander too close to the edge.

Amenadiel doesn’t doubt that he wouldn’t open the wings to save himself.


End file.
